


Adjusting

by HeadmasterFelix, Luttvicithor



Series: Unrelated Stucky Short Fics [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Protective Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 05:59:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17575163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luttvicithor/pseuds/Luttvicithor
Summary: Bucky is back but the scars of being Winter Soldier take a heavy toll. Steve does his best to see him through it.





	Adjusting

Bucky's been back for all of three days, and things still feel weird. It's to be expected, Steve tells himself. He went through so much, has so much to process, he insists. But still, part of Steve really thought it would all be the same. And in some ways, it is. They still share the same inside jokes, Bucky's smile is still the same when Steve manages to draw it out, and sharing a room, though not a bed, still feels more natural and more comfortable than being alone _ever_ did, for both of them.

Steve has done a lot of adjusting. His best friend looks so different, feels so different, from things as subtle as his taste in coffee to as overt as, well, the metal arm. But already it all feels like his best friend. No, more than that. The piece of him that's been missing. _The love of your life,_ though he would never really let himself think that.

He established a routine from day one. They're good, healthy, maybe in some ways vital to soldiers like themselves, and he doesn't deviate from it at all this morning. He's up before Bucky, but only by enough to grab the paper, make coffee, and get breakfast started. When his friend comes in to take his usual seat at the kitchen's island, Steve sets the newspaper and his coffee down in front of him, and greets him with a still morning-rough voice. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

And like every morning, Bucky nods. "Yeah." He had slept horrible, like the nights before, but saying that only to see the worry on Steve's face? Not worth it. "You?" He sits down, takes a sip of his coffee and then stares into his mug for a moment before focusing on Steve again. The man who saved him. Who brought him back. The guy who keeps him going.

"Yeah," he smiles back, and it's more true for him, but still not entirely. He turns his attention back to cooking, letting them rest in a comfortable silence, and soon serves up breakfast. It feels good to have someone to cook for, a brother to share his life with again.

"Thank you." Gratefully, Bucky digs in. After a moment, he puts down his fork though. "Okay, to be honest, I had a horrible night. Every night alone in that damn bed is horrible because as soon as I close my eyes..." He swallows hard.

Steve takes a seat beside Bucky and eats as well, but as soon as his friend stops his attention is fully given. He furrows his brow. "But... I'm there. Doesn't that help?"

"You're not when I close my eyes," Bucky explains quietly. "Everything here is so unfamiliar, there's nothing to ground me, to keep me bound to reality."

He nods slowly, recognition in his eyes. "Okay. Yeah. I've... I've seen how that goes, with other people. What can we do to fix that? What would make you stay present?"

 _Sleeping with you in my arms._ "I don't know."

Steve rubs his face and tries to think. "Some people get a service animal," and then he looks at Bucky and shakes his head, "Are you a dog person? I'm not sure I'm a dog person."

"Dogs hate me. They hate the arm, they can sense that I'm not really human anymore. And I hate them," Bucky growls softly.

"Ohhkay, no dogs, no problem." Tentatively, he slips a hand onto Bucky's shoulder. "We'll figure something out, okay?"

Subconsciously, Bucky leans into the touch. He's so damn starved for human contact. "Yeah, we will. We always do." Smiling crookedly, he picks up his fork again. "So what's the plan for today, Captain?"

Steve notices and lingers a moment longer. He's not sure what to do with this apparent want just yet, but it feels good regardless. Feels good that Bucky wants his touch. "I think plans for today just changed. We're gonna work this out. You're gonna get a good night's sleep tonight."

He can't help but chuckle softly at that. "You know, if anyone else was saying it I'd call them crazy but with you it might actually be the truth." Bucky shakes his head and takes a sip from his coffee. "What do you want me to do?"

"Think about things that could keep you grounded. Nothing's off limits. We could get an old uniform, buy one of your things from the museum, find the same brand of perfume an old girlfriend used to wear..."

"Barbasol?" Bucky blushes.

He tilts his head, that name giving him pause before the memory clicks. "Wait... Wasn't that my aftershave?"

"Yeah. You're pretty much the only solid memory they couldn't ruin. Anything that's connected to you is stable. Everything else is tainted and mixed up with what they made me do," he admits quietly.

"Buck," he murmurs, saddened and proud at the same time. He slips his hand onto Bucky's and holds it gently. "Okay, yeah, we'll... We'll find a bottle of that." But he doesn't let go.

Hesitantly, Bucky turns more towards Steve. "This..." He nods at their joined hands. "This is my anchor. Your voice, your touch, your scent. I'm sorry, I know it's a lot to ask of you, I'm a huge burden."

"A lot to ask of me?" Steve smiles with disbelief. "You think it's a lot to ask me to just be here with you? It's all I've wanted for years, Buck. It's nothing to ask of me."

"I don't want you to feel like you gotta babysit me 24/7. I don't wanna put the responsibility for my sanity on your shoulders, you carry enough already." Bucky's face closes off.

"You're my brother," he says, suddenly quite serious. "You come before anything and everything else, always. I'm honored I can be this for you."

The word _'brother'_ echoes strangely in his mind but he nods. "I'm so grateful you're here."

"Me too. Ah, grateful you're here, I mean." He pulls his hand away, drags it over Bucky's leg, and then goes back to finishing his breakfast.

God, that touch on his leg almost burns and lights his skin up with a heat from deep within. But Bucky is used to that feeling these days. It's a constant reminder of how important Steve is to him and at the same time, that's the reason he doesn't do anything about it. Losing his soulmate would be far worse than not becoming lovers. He's fine as it is.

When they're finished he cleans up, but he keeps glancing at and sometimes just watching Bucky. It isn't with concern or worry anymore, although it has been in the days before. There's something so much warmer behind his eyes now.

Once the dishes are done and the mess is cleaned up, he smiles and asks, "Feel like venturing out with me today?"

"Depends?" Bucky chuckles. "Where exactly do you wanna go and what do I have to wear to come with you?"

"Jeans? Probably a shirt of some kind?" Steve teases. "We're gonna try some drug stores, and then maybe a Macy’s. Er... whatever Macy’s is these days. And if we don't find that cologne ourselves by the end of the day I'll cave and ask Sam to use the internet to find it."

Looking out of the window, he tries to figure out the weather. "If I wore a leather jacket and gloves, think people would look at me funny?" It's somewhat warm. "I don't... my arm..." He flails a little.

He closes the distance between them and takes Bucky's metal hand in both of his. "A lot of vets have prosthetics these days thanks to the wonders of modern medicine, but if you don't feel ready, you could try long sleeves and gloves. And either way, we'll be together, so it won't matter how people are looking at you."

"I don't wanna take it off!" The idea immediately puts fear in his eyes. "I just don't wanna get recognized for it."

"What?" He furrows his brow, confused. "I wasn't suggesting you take it off, I was suggesting that you could go out without covering yourself shoulder to fingertip, because I know you're not the only guy in New York with a prosthetic arm, not by a long shot." And, okay, maybe most of them aren't fully articulated and made of metal, but still...

"You really think with all the Avengers' fame and the press about me people wouldn't recognise it?" Bucky doubts that. "I'll sweat a little more. Jacket and gloves it is."

He was ready to be fully supportive of any decision Bucky made, so he just smiles and squeezes his hand. "I'm glad you're coming out with me. I'm glad we're spending the day together. And for the record, I really do think a long-sleeved shirt would do the trick, you don't need to go full-on leather jacket," he comments as he pulls away to go get himself dressed.

"Yeah, but the gloves look better with a jacket." Bucky grins. No one said he's not allowed to be a vain bastard anymore. 

A few minutes later he's ready, combat boots, jeans, t-shirt, an old aviator jacket he pulled out of Steve's wardrobe and some suitable sunglasses to go with it. "Do I look like I belong into this century?"

"Yep, I definitely missed you," Steve laughs as Bucky puts fashion before comfort. He strips in front of his friend, no hesitation or second thought, and realizes only once he's naked that he hasn't yet decided on what to wear. The extra few minutes in the buff doesn't seem to bother him any.

Once he's pulled on some jeans and a somewhat tight, plain tee, he looks over Bucky appraisingly. "As far as I can tell, definitely. Plus, 40s vintage is in, or so Wanda tells me."

Bucky is really damn glad the shades hide his eyes and he just nods while he lets his gaze roam over Steve's body. He's also glad his jeans are rather loose fitting in the front because damn.

"Who's Wanda again?" he asks after a moment, trying to clear his head.

"Avenger, 20-something, likes red," he explains as he scoops up his wallet, keys, and cell. "While we're out, we need to get you a phone."

"Can I get a phone with actual keys? That touch stuff weirds me out. And it doesn't work with my left hand perfectly anyway," Bucky asks as they leave the house.

"Yeah, definitely. And speaking of keys, we need to get you a copy of mine. I told Tony the high-tech stuff makes me nervous and made him install a mechanical lock instead of those fingerprint scanners he’s got. It doesn't, really, I just like it better." He grins like he's done something scandalous, lying to a friend for personal gain like that.

Bucky smiles rather affectionately. "Aren't you a bad boy these days. But I figured Jarvis..."

"You think I like talking to an omniscient robot? Now _that_ makes me uncomfortable. The fact that it exists makes me uncomfortable." He glances around the room, still wary after all this time of living here that there are cameras he just hasn't been able to spot. "You ready to go?"

"Yes I am, lead the way Cap." Bucky stays as close to Steve as he possibly can without touching him. Sometimes, it's a blessing the city is this crowded.

Steve takes him through the streets of New York, so much more populated than years ago, more flooded with noise, and so much more closed in by tall buildings. They stop by the locksmith first, since copying a key takes time, and then head out to the nearby drug store. He keeps a close eye on Bucky every step of the way. He lets his friend feel the nervousness and anxiety to some extent - with most of the vets he knows, learning how to weather it is an important step, but it has to stay within a window of tolerance. The second Bucky seems to be reaching his limit, he takes his hand and links their fingers, murmuring, "I'm here. I've got you."

It's just so much and everything triggers a reaction, a memory, a suppressed feeling. He's close to running again, just out, away, doesn't matter where, when Steve takes his hand. Suddenly, the world slows down again and he can breathe. "Can we... can we get somewhere more quiet after this?"

"Yeah, of course. Whatever you need, Buck." He doesn't let go, and he's grateful that male affection is just as allowed today as it was in the thirties and forties, even if people draw an entirely different conclusion about it. It turns out that the drug store is quite a bit quieter than the streets, not many people at the pharmacy or stocking up on junk food at ten in the morning. Steve leads the way to the aisle with the male toiletries and takes a look around.

Bucky doesn't even think about the fact that they're holding hands, he just focuses on Steve's presence and that warm, strong body next to him. After a few minutes, he dares to look at his surroundings again. "Jesus, how many brands and options are there these days?"

"... Too many," he's a bit dumbfounded, but after a moment his eyes hone in on a can that hasn't changed much in a century. He pulls away from Bucky to bend over and grab something off the bottom shelf, a striped can of distinctively scented shaving cream. "Well hot damn," he smiles. "Barbasol. I can't believe they still make it. This is the stuff you meant, right?"

"Yeah, it is." Bucky hadn't expected their hunt to be a success that easily but he takes the can from Steve with a gentle smile. "Maybe I will be able to sleep tonight after all."

"I'll start using it again, too," Steve smiles, and his face goes just a shade more pink. "I can't believe... I can't believe the way I used to smell makes you feel safe."

Unable to look at him, Bucky tries to shrug it off. "Is it really that surprising? I bet holding you while I sleep would cure all of my nightmares at once."

Suddenly his heart is in his throat, and he remembers how desperately he used to want that, back when he was small and fragile, too broken to even qualify for service. He hasn't thought about that in so long. "Buck..." Steve sounds breathless, but he shakes off his own thoughts and feelings quickly. "Would that really help?" That's what's important here.

"Touching you makes me able to think clearly again," Bucky mutters but turns away, walking towards the check out as calm as he possibly can.

Steve lets himself **grin** for a moment, practically giddy, and then tucks it mostly back in as he catches up with his friend. When they get up to the counter, he asks for one of the pre-pay phones they keep back there, and pays for both. They can make an excursion for a smart phone some other day, today he just wants to get Bucky home.

Bucky is about to argue that he can spend his own money but really, he doesn't have the nerve to get into it. He just wants to go back home, too, as foreign as Steve's apartment still feels, it's better than the rest of the world.

He links hands with his friend again on the way home, although his motivation may be slightly different than before. The desire for closeness may be his. They stop in at the locksmith quickly, and then get back to the apartment in short order. Steve locks the door behind them, sets the shopping bag down, and finally blurts out what's been on his mind the entire walk. "Let's share my bed tonight."

"Wh-what?" That Bucky is stunned would be a total understatement. "Just like that?"

"Yeah, why not? I keep telling you I'd do anything for you, right? I almost killed my friend to keep you safe. Why would I hesitate for something that sounds, um," his words stall and pause as he rubs a hand over the back of his neck. "So... _good_?"

"In comparison to murder anything sounds good," Bucky snaps, staring at Steve with an incredulous look. "Did you really just say **that**?"

"It wouldn't have been murder," he insists, an edge to his voice. He hates the idea that he could be capable of such a thing. "I'm just saying, you can hardly be surprised that I'd wanna do something... Pleasurable?" _Did I seriously just use that word?_ "Given what I've proven."

"You don't need to prove anything to me." He turns around and flees to his room, unsure how to handle Steve's suggestion. "And I don't need your pity. Not more than I already get on a daily basis anyway."

He sighs heavily. "You don't have my pity, Bucky, you have my friendship!" But he doesn't follow him just yet, he gives him a few minutes to not feel cornered.

_Friendship_. It's an amazing gift but in that moment it makes Bucky wanna throw up. He curls up in a corner of his room, desperately willing his head to shut up and the world to stop moving.

Trailing a few minutes behind, Steve knocks on the open door before letting himself in. He comes about a foot away from Bucky and kneels on the floor, watching him closely. "Hey," his voice is gentle but firm. "Stay with me here, Buck."

"Not like I could go anywhere else," Bucky growls in return. "I'm useless and helpless without you. I just want you to stop doing all this shit for me and only for me."

He's taken aback and furrows his brow. "You're not useless, and you're not helpless. What's going on right now, why don't you want my help anymore?" It's completely missing him, what Bucky is getting at.

He's not sure why he snaps but Bucky lunges forward and slams Steve onto the floor, metal hand at his throat. "Because you wanna touch me for all the _wrong_ reasons!"

Steve stays impeccably calm, a trait he knows can be infuriating but he doesn't know how to turn off. He doesn't fight it or struggle, just continues to put his trust in his friend. "What are the right reasons, Buck? Why do you want me to want to touch you?" But as soon as the question is out, the answer lurks in the back of his mind.

Shocked at his own loss of control, Bucky pulls back. "F-forget about it." He gets up quickly, ruffling his hair and stepping away from Steve. "I'm sorry, I don't... I shouldn't have done that."

He sits up enough to prop himself onto his elbows, but stays otherwise prone. "Answer me. Please." _Because if you don't say it, I'm going to have to._

"No, there's no good answer. Forget I said anything." It's not worth it. Openly saying how he feels is not worth losing Steve.

"You want me to want you, the way you want me. If I... if I touch you, if I _share a bed_ with you because I want to make you feel safe, it should be because I love you the way you love me. It should come from a deeper, maybe a more selfish place, than just wanting to do the right thing, be a good friend." He just lays it out there, blunt and boy scout honest.

Bucky pales on the spot, feeling like he's about to throw up. For a moment his instincts tell him to run again but then he just... gives up. His face hardens and his eyes darken with bitterness. "If you know already, why are you even asking?"

Steve shakes his head and looks away before looking back to Bucky. "I didn't know. It was half wishful thinking."

"Wishful thinking? I wasn't aware you liked humiliating me." He drops back onto his bed and just stares at Steve, his expression unreadable.

He arches an eyebrow, and that feeling, that absolute, intrinsic knowledge that his relationship with Bucky is different than with anyone else on Earth, becomes apparent to him. He sits up fully, not afraid to call him on his shit like he used to. "Are you kidding me right now? Are you really gonna sit there and brood rather than acknowledge the fact that I-... that I-..." _Oh wow, it really is hard to say._ He clears his throat, steels himself, tries again. "That I love you?"

"I know you love me," Bucky says softly. "But there's a difference between being your brother and your best friend and..." Yeah, no way he's using that word. "More."

"Will you _please_ just shut up and get back over here so you can kiss me?"

Bucky is gobsmacked. "You.. what?" He raises and like he's on autopilot he goes down and kneels over Steve. "Is this a dream?"

He slips a hand around the back of Bucky's head, tangling fingers in his hair as he pushes forward to kiss his best friend, his brother, his... more. Steve's lips are inexperienced, the kiss is in no way skilled or graceful, but damn if it doesn't have over half a century of pent up feelings behind it.

Bucky downright melts into the kiss and returns it with just as much feeling and a bit more skill. Cupping Steve's jaw, he takes over, takes the lead and lets his best friend, his brother, his _soulmate_ open up for more.

Steve lies back down, pulling Bucky with him. He moans softly into the kiss, encouraging and making it known that he loves this.

But Bucky can't keep it up, he needs to say something. "I've loved you all my life, I'm so fucking sorry I never did anything about it."

"Me too," he says simply. "But we're doing something about it now, and that's more than good enough for me."


End file.
